


The Devil Needs No Consent

by FugalGear



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Homophobic Language, M/M, Mild Racism, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 16:08:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FugalGear/pseuds/FugalGear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Let me suck your cock, ‘Bastian.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>This conversation was, strangely enough, an exchange that happened between the two men-- so often that Sebastian often brushed it off without a glance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devil Needs No Consent

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I could have put some more time into this, but impatience is a flaw many of us will admit to. Anyways, let me know what you think!

“Let me suck your cock, ‘Bastian.”

“No.”

This conversation was, strangely enough, an exchange that happened between the two men--so often that Sebastian often brushed it off without a glance toward Jim. 

The two men shared a special sort of employer/employee relationship. It crossed the expected scripted boundaries in that Sebastian often stayed overnight at Jim’s for the sake of convenience. He would utilize the starkly white kitchen to cook meals for them both, and often Jim and Sebastian reclined after a hard day’s work to participate in leisurely activities together, such as watching television. Sebastian had even started a game of Scrabble, which sat on the coffee table and whose vocabulary was becoming increasingly more inappropriate. Sebastian checked the board once Jim announced that it was his turn, only to find that his ‘lethargy’ now crossed paths with the word ‘cockring.’ Sebastian was certain that ‘cock ring’ was two words, not one, and also had long since held the suspicion that Jim cheated when it came to the tiles. He rolled his eyes and played the word ‘sow.’ 

It is through these games of Scrabble and lounging over reruns of EastEnders that Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran had grown almost sickeningly domestic. Neither of them minded, of course. The domesticity was a welcome reprieve from their business and travels. Sebastian supposed that they had grown to be rather close friends, although the intimacy of their living situation suggested more. 

The first time that Jim inquired so blatantly to pleasure Sebastian, the sniper was cooking dinner. More specifically, he was sautéing vegetables in a light butter sauce, using his beloved wok. Sebastian utilized the wok so much while he cooked, that two were currently perched on the stove. Jim thought it unnecessary. Sebastian told him that he didn’t want to hear criticism, and that Jim should cook for himself if he didn’t approve of owning two woks. 

Jim, meanwhile, was also perched in the kitchen, although most decidedly not on the stove top. The slender man sat cross-legged on a stool at the breakfast bar, turned to survey Sebastian’s back thoughtfully while the smell of buttered string beans wafted through the air. He leaned back, balancing his chin on the heel of his hand, arm propped against the counter of the breakfast bar. 

“Let me suck your cock, ‘Bastian.” 

Sebastian glanced up, uncertain that he had heard his boss correctly. Mentally replaying the audio, he decided that yes, indeed, he had. 

“Excuse me?” he asked, hoping for elaboration.

“You should let me.”

Sebastian paused for a moment, before replying, “no, thanks,” and returning to the task at hand. 

The blond truly didn’t think much of the request, even though it struck him as odd. He was never sure what went on in Jim’s funny little brain. The man often said or did unexpected things—Jim was quirky like that, he supposed. 

The event quickly faded from Sebastian’s memory, and did not resurface until a few weeks later. Jim and himself returned from a quick excursion to Morocco that afternoon, after a particularly restless overnight flight. The criminal managed several accounts in the country, many of which had been tampered with—a problem that Jim endeavored to correct personally. Sebastian was his only security detail, as the job was of low risk. Upon their return to London, Jim promptly ordered a pizza, and the two of them settled down to watch a movie. Sebastian held up the DVD case for Blade Runner. Jim didn’t scrunch his face at the suggestion, so Sebastian popped it in. 

The two men sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the ability to immerse themselves in the sci-fi film after a tiring day—well, at least Sebastian was. Each sat on the opposite end of the couch, legs creating an alternating pattern in the middle. Sebastian had seen the movie in theaters when it came out, although he was just a kid. He had a nostalgic place in his heart for it. 

About an hour into the film, Sebastian realized that Jim was staring at him, and he turned his head to meet Jim’s eyes with a questioning look. He wasn’t sure how long Jim had been watching him. 

“Let me suck your cock, ‘Bastian.”

Not this, again. Honestly. Sebastian was fairly certain that Jim was gay, but as long as the man didn’t try to pull anything on him, Sebastian didn’t much care. Jim could be a bender on his own time. 

“I’m not a queer,” he deadpanned, returning his gaze to the television. 

Jim hummed, his accent melodious as he spoke. “Doesn’t mean that I’m not interested, honey~”

Sebastian did not reply, and Jim, thankfully, did not push the issue. That night, Sebastian brushed his teeth in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror after he spit out the toothpaste. The scene replayed in his mind’s eye. It was obviously more than he originally thought, considering this was the second time that Jim propositioned him. He couldn’t decide if Jim was being serious, or simply messing with him. The man scowled—it wasn’t funny. Who did Jim think he was, throwing something out there like that? Even if he did have the desire, he should keep that sort of thing to himself. He scoffed, pulling the bathroom door closed behind him as he marched to his bedroom.

“Twink.”

 

Jim asked him the same question at odd intervals. They came in texts, were whispered into his ear, and sometimes did not come for so long that Sebastian forgot that he should have been expecting it. Gradually, he stopped being offended by Jim’s offer, especially when he realized that the man acted on it no further than posing the question.

It was one of those rare occasions that Sebastian was allowed a vacation, of sorts. One evening, Jim abruptly declared that the firm could run itself for a few weeks, and disappeared the next day. Sebastian secured and locked up Jim’s flat before returning to his own for the first time in several months. 

The best word to describe his flat was ‘dusty.’ In its perpetual disuse, the furnishings had acquired a rather impressive film of dust. The sniper had learned long since not to keep perishable food items in the kitchen (which was, incidentally, a rather disgusting lesson to have learned first-hand), so all that he found stocked within its cabinets were a few bottles of alcohol, cans of soup, tea, and assorted baking ingredients. He inspected the flat thoroughly for mice, ants, the homeless, whatever may have made home in his rooms while he was absent. Thankfully, he found none.

On the eighth day of his spontaneous vacation, Sebastian found himself biding his time until his boss’s return. Jim had yet to contact him. The man started catching up with several old friends, deprived as he was of human connection while being holed up in his flat. 

On the tenth day, he brought a woman back to his flat. Sebastian honestly could not remember the last time he had been with a woman, and the moment he came to this realization, he endeavored to rectify it. Jennifer was a friend of a friend. He had gone out with his mates to the pubs, and the moment Sebastian lay eyes on her, toned limbs, regal face, dark skin, he knew that he wanted to take this model of a woman home. 

They took it calculatingly, tantalizingly slow, despite the anticipation that coiled in Sebastian’s muscles. Divest of clothes and clad only in their underwear, Sebastian lay propped against the pillows of his bed while Jennifer crawled forward, up his torso. She was already proving to be a playful little kitten. Sebastian grinned. Her brassiere and panties were white lace, contrasting beautifully with her skin tone. Sebastian reached up, flitting his fingers teasingly alongside her curves—another plus to bringing a dark-skinned girl home. His time spent abroad had truly spoiled him when it came to the body of a woman. 

It was like this, with Sebastian on his back enjoying the view, Jennifer circling his chest with a mischievous forefinger, when Jim unceremoniously opened his bedroom door. Alert, Sebastian turned his head to face the intruder. Just Jim. Of course. He relaxed back into the bed with an irritated huff. Jennifer eyed Jim cautiously, however did not move from her station over Sebastian. Sebastian wondered absently how Jim got in, without detection, no less.

“I’m a bit busy, if you can’t tell, boss.”

Jim’s face was one of utter, complete shock. Sebastian thought that it looked reminiscent of a person who had just walked in on a cheating spouse. Actually—

“Sebastian, how could you!” Jim stepped forward, face contorting with dismayed anger. “I’ve been gone for a week, and you bring home some girl?” He spat the last word in reluctant disgust. 

“Jim, what the hell are you even doing here?! I thought you would have texted me when you got back, like usual!” Sebastian realized belatedly, after Jennifer looked down at him with a horrified, shocked expression, that he had dug himself further into Jim’s lie with his words. She definitely had the wrong idea, now. 

Jennifer slid from the bed, pulling on her clothes. “I should leave.” She turned to face Jim, who looked as if he was about to cry, fists clenched and lips trembling. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea. Sorry—just, sorry.”

The woman left, and Jim donned a smug smile. Sebastian flopped over onto his stomach. Maybe if he smothered himself hard enough into the pillows, this wouldn’t be happening. 

Jim sauntered over. “You know, I wasn’t aware you had someone over. Truly. That was completely unintentional.”

Sebastian wasn’t sure if he believed his boss or not. He laughed bitterly. “No, of course not. Silly me for actually thinking that I could get laid, for once.”

“I can suck you off, if you’d like.”

Sebastian pulled the covers over his head with a groan. 

 

After Jim’s leave of absence, the two men redoubled their efforts in all work related to the firm. Sebastian, who hardly had any sniping jobs nowadays, was shipped out for quite a few, and Jim was almost always found with his nose glued to his computer screen. He found Jim’s company especially enjoyable, despite the interruption that occurred several weeks prior. When left to his own devices, Sebastian had little to do that was actually productive, and productivity definitely suited him best. He was thankful. 

 

Several months later, Sebastian found himself traveling with Jim to France. The infamous Moriarty was due to personally attend a few serious, diplomatic talks in Nice. 

Sebastian ended up spending most of his time in the hotel room, bored out of his mind. He had little worry for Jim’s personal safety—a few of his men who resided in France accompanied him to and from the meetings. Still, he had little to occupy himself with. 

He liked to walk his own personal tour of the city, but on this particular day it was dreary and drizzling. Sebastian didn’t fancy going outside in the slightest. The day prior, the blond had acquired a small bag of marijuana from the bell-hop, and today he enjoyed it while leisurely reclining in one of the hotel room’s plush chairs. After a while of blissful relaxation, Sebastian decided that a good wank would serve him well, and began to do just that. He leaned back with closed eyes, humming lowly to the easy, languid movement of his own hand. 

The sound of the keycard unlocking the door did little to disturb Sebastian from his reverie, despite the fact that he knew it was his boss returning. He glanced at the small blunt residing in the ashtray on the table by the armrest, likely the reason behind his casual detachment from the situation. He watched Jim enter, look at him with a bemused expression, before turning toward the kitchenette. He closed his eyes again.

The next reason he had cause to open them, was when he felt his own hand being pulled away from himself. He peeled them open to the sight of Jim on his knees between his legs, tongue licking playfully at his erection, before taking Sebastian into his mouth. The man slunk further down into the chair, the movement accompanied by a moan. Jim’s mouth felt sinful. Sebastian indulged in it for a moment, before a realization hit him. He looked down at Jim, brow furrowed.

“No fair.”

Jim leaned back, looking up. “Pardon?”

“You didn’t ask.”

Jim smiled sweetly. “If I had asked, you would have said ‘no,’ sweetie.”

While Sebastian considered, conceding that Jim was correct, the man resumed his work, drawing out a pleasured purr from Sebastian. It was definitely a good thing that Jim did not ask this time, he decided.


End file.
